


Foul

by kawaakms



Category: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Genre: Author is starved of jace content, Basketball club shenanigans, M/M, Rarepair asf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:26:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27507565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kawaakms/pseuds/kawaakms
Summary: Is Ace a betting man? Of course there's no way he'd lose, so why wouldn't he be?Jamil and Ace raise the stakes of their frequent juvenile bets.
Relationships: Jamil Viper/Ace Trappola
Kudos: 23





	Foul

“Pass!”

“Open! Ace pass here!”

“Open, behind!”

Ace froze, head swiveling rapidly with each call from his teammates. A boy from the opposing team closed in on him with wide-open arms and eyes like a hawk. The ball dribbled between his static legs impatiently, and the hot sweat dripping onto the court seemed to count down each crucial second before his pause would be considered a foul. 

Despite being a first-year and a new addition to the NRC basketball club, Ace had proven himself to be a member invaluable for his level-headedness. When faced with difficult opponents he could remain calm and collected, seemingly able to deduct the best play within a span of milliseconds. Along with the experienced third-years and a couple of talented second-years, the outcome of a scrimmage could easily be shifted in favor of whichever team was assigned the redheaded Heartslabyul boy with unlimited potential. 

That is, on a normal day. 

At this instant, Ace was mildly surprised to find his brain had a rare moment of emptiness. With each passing moment he felt his muscles tensing with anxiety. On any normal day, he would have already made the pass with 100% accuracy. His team would have scored a 2-pointer by now, putting them in the lead with a mere three seconds left. They’d have been exchanging menial “good games” with their opponents and heading off to the locker room with their heads held high in unshakable pride. 

On any normal day...

The coach blew his whistle furiously. The digital scoreboard halted at three seconds remaining. “Foul! Yellow gets a free throw. Ace, get your head in the game.” 

Ace shook his head, flinging an arc of salty perspiration around his sneakered feet. He tossed the ball to the nearest yellow player and pinched the bridge of his nose as he moved outside the key.

Yellow team’s free-thrower lined up with the basket on the mid-court line and the scoreboard continued its aching countdown.

3

Hands lifted, knees bent.

2

Fingers poised for a clean swish shot.

1

The ball left their hands in an envious arc, entering the net with perfect ease.

The scoreboard buzzed. Game over. Yellow team’s win. 

Today wasn’t a normal day, or Ace wouldn’t have been consumed with an overwhelming pressure to succeed, ultimately resulting in his downfall. He whipped off his purple penny-shirt and ran his hands through his disheveled hair. No, today’s scrimmage decided the future of his social life for the next month, and he had lost it. It was a rare moment for Ace to feel humbled. Yet, somehow the shame welling up inside of him managed to do so. 

Before he could follow the rest of his club members to the locker room and shower his frustration away, he was beckoned back by the coach. 

“You tensed up in the final moments, Ace. What happened?”

Ace rubbed the back of his neck and his eyes focused on the space behind the coach’s shoulder. “Nothing really. Must just be tired from today’s alchemy exam. A fluke,” he half-lied casually. Actually, alchemy class was to blame, however...

The coach let out a low, contemplating hum. 

“Well then, I hope to see you in top shape next meeting.” Ace stood in silence while the coach slung a duffel bag over his shoulder. “You’re on cleanup duty, you can head back to the dorms once everything is put away.”

Giving a quiet thumbs up in acknowledgement, Ace swiveled on his heels to pick up the yellow and purple penny shirts haphazardly thrown across the stadium. His nose wrinkled at the thought of having to touch the sweat-drenched rags. 

“And Ace,” the coach added with half his head peeking from behind the exit door. “Please lock the storage room this time. I know it was you who allowed the moths to fly in.”

A breath of annoyed air was released as he turned back around and mimed the nagging words soundlessly. “Whatever, old man.” 

Despite his bratty attitude, once he finished his task Ace actually double checked, then triple checked to make sure he had locked the storage room behind him.

Just so I don’t get scolded in the future, he reasoned with himself. 

Huffing in accomplishment, the back of his wrist swiped across his face and the heart meticulously painted on the corner of his eye left a smeared trail of bloody red. He was excited by the prospect of finally washing the workout grime from his body and hurriedly made his way back to the gym lockers. 

“You lost to me today.” 

The silky voice had Ace stopped in his tracks once again. His teeth gritted at the demeaning choice of words. _My team is the one who lost to yours, stupid. _“What of it? You think I’m gonna back out of the bet?”__

____

____

The second-year star of the basketball club was arrogantly leaning against the door frame to the locker room, his crossed arms accentuating toned, lean muscle lines that could only be gained from consistent endurance training, and his hair was meticulously pulled back into a sleek, low-riding ponytail.

“Are you?” Jamil’s features formed his usual bored expression. 

“Tsk. Not all of us are as shady as you are.” 

A finely trimmed eyebrow raised in question at the redhead, somehow managing to maintain a lax and lazy atmosphere. “You should have more respect for your elders, twerp.” 

From the start of club practice to his humiliating defeat, Ace had already worked himself up into a bad mood. Suddenly being faced with the source of his anxiety fueled his blood pressure to dangerous levels, and he wasn’t sure he could bother continuing pointless banter with the haughty classmate while still retaining his dignity. 

Being the first to concede in an argument was already terribly rare for Ace; as he passed Jamil through the doorway he couldn’t resist shoving the older boy’s shoulder in a slight show of defiance. 

There hadn’t been much force behind the push and it was really only a way to give himself some face, but who knew that Jamil would be so petty as to mutter a fake, drawn out, “Ouch,” and clamp down his wrist before he could escape. 

“You’re such a sore loser that you beat up your innocent seniors?” Jamil’s once dull eyes flared with excitement. “Ace Trappola, you’d do well to remember who put you in your place. Next time don’t make a promise you’d loathe to keep. Oh, and make sure to remember to bring your own broom when you come to fulfill your duties as Scarabia’s little maid. Unfortunately, we don’t share supplies with tantrum-throwing children.”

Ace’s heart lurched and his face flushed as scarlet as his makeup. This guy!

No matter how hard he struggled, Jamil’s grip was a tightened vice around his arm and he couldn’t shake free. 

“Ahh jeez! I got it already, so let me go!” 

Not only did he not let go, the second year also tugged at him lightly until their faces were centimeters apart. A smooth dark hand gripped his chin and tilted his head gently to the side. 

Jamil hummed and blinked languidly. “Your makeup is ruined.” 

He wasn’t exactly sure what had gotten into him, but Ace felt like the heat of a thousand suns had currently possessed his body. His chin burned where Jamil’s fingers were pressed and his breathing stopped.

Frowning, he managed to extract himself from the older boy and scampered to his locker like a skittish kitten. Every so often he would peer over his shoulder to pinpoint Jamil’s position before whipping his head forward and stuffing his belongings into a small school bag. He had already long forgotten about his makeup and planned to hightail his ass right back to the dorms as fast as possible.

Jamil found the whole display to be quite cute.

Ace would beg to differ. The entire time he was cursing Jamil in his heart nonstop, wishing his own bloated ego hadn’t gotten him into this miserable position. 

They were used to having trivial competitions, and frequently would challenge each other in basketball club over who could shoot the most baskets, or pluck the most mandragoras in joint alchemy classes. While there were never any rewards or high stakes, the boys were competitive enough that the act of winning over each other was more than enough motivation. At least, that’s what Ace thought. 

Today, Jamil decided to raise the stakes. He was bored with only harmless competition and wanted to add excitement to their constant game. Thus came the bet; whoever lost the basketball game would have to be a maid for the other dorm for a month.

Ace grit his teeth as he remembered Jamil’s final words from the agreement, “maid uniform included.” He might as well die from humiliation right then and there.

He glanced up from his locker to see the devil himself strutting towards him with a damp clump of cheap paper towels in his hand. 

“You forgot about your makeup,” he tsked, raising the paper towel to Ace’s smudged heart. The scent of wet recycling paper filled his nose and he unconsciously shut his eyes, a little shocked, but made no attempt to push him away. Jamil was surprisingly gentle in his ministrations and the rhythmic swiping lulled Ace into a relaxed trance.

His right eye opened halfway and lazily observed the boy in front of him. When Jamil was concentrated he frowned slightly and furrowed his brows, dedicating his full attention to anything he did. Right now, that attention was directly on Ace, and it was inciting a foreign feeling of satisfaction to boil at the pit of his stomach. 

He liked it when his senior paid attention to him.

That sudden realization left his cheeks flaming with embarrassment. He quickly averted his eyes.

Jamil really hadn’t had any dishonorable intentions, at least not at the moment. Although he could admit that the reasoning behind initiating the bet was a bit lecherous, right now he had simply observed this air-headed junior fumbling around in a haste and thought he probably forgot about his ruined makeup again. Jamil was doing him a favor by preventing him from walking around campus like a clown. However, after seeing Ace’s face flush a soft red and his eyes glancing to the side shyly, his original motivation became a bit clouded and he felt the urge to bully him a little.

“Really... what are you doing acting like a bashful maiden when someone shows you a bit of kindness,” he teased while pinching the tip of his nose harshly.

“Ow. Whatever,” Ace frowned and defiantly turned his head away from Jamil. The action betrayed him by revealing his blushing ears and Jamil’s eyelid twitched in annoyance. 

This brat. 

Jamil gripped his chin and against Ace’s attempts to resist, turned his face forward once again. “You...”

Suddenly the locker room door slammed shut and Ace’s eyes widened in horror. Afraid someone had accidentally seen this odd display between them, he tried to dislodge himself from Jamil’s grip and step backwards, but his bag from earlier was haphazardly thrown on the floor and he couldn’t help but trip. 

His body tilted 30 degrees, legs scrambling to keep their balance, and his arms whipping forward to grab onto anything that would act as a support; or in this case, Jamil’s hair. Jamil wrinkled his nose in slight pain when Ace’s hands pulled his hair so hard the elastic was dragged off, releasing it to flow freely down his back in long silky waves. 

Despite the spark of annoyance he felt at suddenly having his hair painfully yanked, he still grabbed Ace’s waist in an attempt to save him from falling and both boys stumbled backwards into an open shower stall. 

Ace’s back hit the wall and the two stared blankly at each other. Frozen still from sheer surprise, it took a few moments for Jamil’s brain to continue functioning. His eyes eventually flickered down to gaze at Ace’s fist tightly clenched with Jamil’s hair tie and a few stray strands of black hair ripped out along the way. His head continued to throb dully but for some reason, the scene of the redhead looking bewildered with his face still damp with water and his hand pitifully clutching Jamil’s hair, was exceedingly funny at the moment.

Jamil’s low chuckle tumbled out unintentionally.

Ace had been seriously startled and silently praying that Jamil didn’t slaughter him for ruining his hair, so the last thing he expected was for the boy to burst into laughter. 

Recovered from the sudden adrenaline and filled with relief that Jamil wasn’t mad, Ace eventually joined him in his fit of giggles. 

As the contagious laughter eventually died into a stream of soft breathy sounds the two met each other’s gazes again. 

Jamil didn’t know what prompted him, but suddenly he was leaning in, and Ace wasn’t retreating. His lips grazed across Ace’s parted ones, warm from either his previous exercise or the intense blush rushing to his cheeks and ears; he wasn’t sure which. The kiss was soft and sweet, too afraid to cross the boundary that would shatter their previous comfort. A comfort in simple teasing that lacked attachment or strings. Jamil pulled his head back a few inches and licked his lips, tasting remnants of previously applied cherry chapstick.

He found as much as he might have wanted, he couldn’t continue to cross that line. Because his life was a tool for bartering that had been signed away to the Al-Asim family. 

He wasn’t allowed to desire anything for himself.

Jamil’s eyes drooped with melancholy and he turned away, trying to shove the feelings threatening to come to fruition back into the cage in his heart. It was fine to admire from a distance, but he couldn’t ask for more than that.

His momentary reverie was shattered by the haughty voice in front of him. 

“I’m not finished with you yet,” Ace declared, clasping the sides of Jamil’s face in his palms and dragging his head down to meet his lips in a kiss much deeper than before. Jamil froze from shock, which gave Ace the upper hand he needed to force his tongue past Jamil’s own tender lips. 

Jamil felt as if his brain was malfunctioning, and in his lapse of judgement he began to move in time with Ace. Resting his hands at the smaller boy’s hips and shoving him backwards into the wall of the shower. His loose hair draped around them both to form a curtain of privacy and leaving them feeling as if they were the only two in the entire school. 

This is something Jamil could only envision in his dreams at night. When Kalim was asleep, and he finally had a moment to let his thoughts run wild. 

But Ace was actually _kissing _him. Ace had taken the _initiative _to kiss him. His body temperature was rising so much he feared his hands would melt a hole in Ace’s waist.____

_____ _

_____ _

With a soft grunt Ace braced himself on the wall to wrap his legs around Jamil and from his new higher position, tugged the silky black hair to tilt Jamil’s head back. His teeth nipped at Jamil’s bottom lip every time he pulled away for air, before diving back for their tongues to twirl together in an equally split power struggle. Any semblance of self control Jamil might have fooled himself into having was long since decimated. 

He had just been sliding his hands from Ace’s waist to feel the sinewy muscles lining his stomach when the main door to the bathroom clanged open loudly. 

“Jamil! Are you in here? I’m ready to go back to the dorm!” A cheery voice called, the sound of heels skipping across the tile echoing in the small room. “Jamil?”

Ace quickly retracted his legs and gave a slight push to Jamil’s shoulders to tell him to leave first. A feeling of slight jealousy and intense anger filled his heart at the sight of Jamil’s eyes closing in anguish. He could tell that his position as Kalim’s attendant stripped away a piece of his happiness at every beck and call. Jamil’s head lowered into Ace’s shoulder and his fist pounded once on the cold marble wall behind them. 

“Damn it,” he breathed helplessly.

Then he was walking away. His form vanished from Ace’s sight as soon as he turned the corner. “Kalim. Get moving, you’re going to be late for your study time.” 

Ace’s knees finally buckled when Jamil’s captivating voice slowly faded into nothing, the main door putting up a barrier and turning the sweet moment they had shared into something lonely and cold. Ace shoved his hands into his hair. His breathing was still uneven and his lips swollen. He felt as if the blush had permanently stained his face an embarrassing crimson. Jamil’s hands branded his skin where they had touched. He wasn’t sure how he was going to be able to act normal after this, but more importantly, he didn’t want to. The encounter left him wanting to be more selfish, and wanting Jamil to be selfish with him for once. He wanted to steal Jamil away from the self-important Al-Asim heir.

A slow, shaky breath exiting from his parted lips warmed the air that had sunk into a freezing chill.

_Shit. ___

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, thank you! I'm back after a long time with my second (public) work ahaha. This was originally just a piece I wrote haphazardly for a friend who likes Jace as much as I do (please we're starving for content) but I decided to publish it in hopes we gain more followers for this amazing rarepair. My friend has been hoping I'll write a follow up sequel involving the conflict between Jamil, Kalim, and Ace so you might see an addition to this oneshot later. Also I apologize, it's been a long time since I've played basketball so I'm a little rusty on my gameplay knowledge, but the foul follows United States high school basketball rules (5 second violation) so dribbling is usually included in the count!


End file.
